NOTES: Darcy's POV. Very fun to write. GOD I LOVE THESE TWO IDIOTS! after this, their relationship will be pretty established, and we'll see where we go from there ;) honestly, these two dorks give me the vibe that every date will be like their first ❤️
Anyway, hope y'all like this one, will probably post soon, love y'all lots! ~Vinny
It was official. Darcy fucking hated laser tag.
The laser tag place ended up some backwater hovel (complete with cockroaches) that masqueraded as a modern establishment. An 'Arcade'. It was dingy, the carpet was 80s space themed, and every attendant seemed to have an acne problem. The smell of rotting pizza and soda solidifying into gummy puddles on the ground invaded his nostrils. The obnoxiously bright games around him were enough to cause a seizure. Darcy used his left hand to block his sight from a vomiting child near the ballpit. He despised this place, already, with every ounce of his being.
"Oh my gosh, it hasn't changed since I was a kid!"
On the other hand, his other hand was being held by Lizzy Bennet, who was bouncing up and down and beaming at him.
So maybe this place wasn't so bad after all.
Darcy saw her still looking at him, so he forced his grimace into a sort of smile. "It.. is NOT what I expected."
"But isn't it great!" She squealed lightly, twirling herself around his arm to gesture at all the tacky disco decorations. "Don't you think it's the absolute EPITOME of entertainment?!"
"I.. well…" Darcy struggled to formulate a response, as an underpaid teenager crossed their path, sweating his way through an anthropomorphic bunny suit with suspicious stains, and Darcy had to swallow his bile. "It's… gr- great. Yeah…"
Lizzy was watching him. The corner of her perfect mouth twitched, rippling a smile through her freckles. Darcy could have kicked himself.
"You knew this place was a shithole!" He cried accusingly. "You knew!"
Lizzy just laughed, and gripped his hand tighter. "I didn't KNOW!" She said, still grinning from ear to ear, "but once we got here, I couldn't pass up the opportunity."
"To tease me?"
"No, to test your chivalry."
Darcy couldn't help but snort at that. He was awarded with a hearty nudge from his date. "Oh, stop," Lizzy laughed, tossing her ponytail. "You know you love it."
He didn't really have anything to say, so he just brought their hands up to his face and kissed her knuckles, still glaring obstinately at his surroundings. Lizzy was lucky she was so damn cute.
So cute in fact, that Darcy didn't even walk out and leave when the gangly attendant put them in different lines, signifying two different teams.
"You're our last two," the man-child said, his voice breaking at least twice every syllable. "I'm sorry sir, if you want to wait until the next game.."
"No, this is fine," Lizzy said, smiling encouragingly at first the man, then her date.
Darcy took a breath and rolled his eyes, casting a baleful glance at his 'team'. It consisted of 3 adolescents, a skinny girl with dyed hair, two college kids who looked like they had the Star Wars script memorized, an obviously clueless father, and what appeared to be an actual kindergartener. With pigtails.
Darcy smiled through his teeth. "This is fine," he repeated, feeling rather like a feral dog pretending to be a puppy.
"Hey." Lizzy stretched one arm over to touch his elbow. She watched him, her gaze soft. "It'll be fun. Trust me."
Darcy exhaled, and cracked his neck. "Alright," he said, with a begrudging grin, "I trust you."
"Good." Then Lizzy made a fighting stance, and began to sway on her the balls of her feet— imitating one of those fighter games with the terrible graphics. "Cuz I'm gonna POUND you, Fitzie!" She called, loud enough to make him cringe.
He shook his head at her, but failed to hide his smile.
Once the two teams (him on Blue, Lizzy on Red), walked inside to gather their equipment, Darcy thought someone might have explained the rules to him. Thought, because Lizzy kept distracting him. Purposely.
When they were sitting on a bench, reading the infantilizing information kiosk, Lizzy narrated it into his ear, in a Southern Belle flight-attendant voice. He didn't understand a word of what she said, but it made him laugh, and he liked that she was close to him.
Darcy couldn't help frowning when a thick, light up blue vest (that smelled heavily of Axe body spray) was shoved his way. Lizzy seemed to see this, and in a surprisingly gentle tone, whispered into his ear.
"How about, since I picked and paid for this date, you get to choose the next one. That sound good?"
Darcy looked over at her. His eyes widened, partially in pleasant astonishment, partially to make up for the dim lighting. He smiled.
"I'd like that," Darcy murmured, moving unconsciously closer to her.
Then he stopped, and frowned again. "Wait, you're paying for this?"
"Don't worry about it!" Lizzy dismissed jovially (if she wasn't taking an unnecessary expense on her already delicate income that wouldn't even be a drop in the bucket for Darcy), and hauled him to his feet. "We're starting!"
Just on cue, a buzzer sounded, and Darcy was hustled into a large room, dark and ethereal, with glow in the dark decorations made to look like high-tech rocket parts. It seemed like a playground, a maze, a roller rink, and a terrible haunted house all rolled into one.
He could see why Lizzy would like it.
A beam of light and a 'ZAP' noise sounded from his chest, and Darcy glanced down. Someone had shot him. His vest blinked warning lights. He hefted his gun, and, for the next half hour, completely forgot that he was a grown man.
He ran around, dodging and looking for the red markers to aim for. He was in shape, but evidently needed to brush up on his strategy; he was better at hiding than firing, as it seemed.
It had been almost the full time, and he had yet to see Lizzy. Darcy was up against a wall, peering through a slot in the foam barrier, scanning the dark room.
"Howdy, stranger," a familiar voice said behind him.
Darcy turned, and was met with the soft taste of Lizzy's mouth on his. She pushed him gently up against the wall, and he dropped his gun to hold her close. Oh god, she was so warm, and so alive, and smiling against his lips… Then, abruptly, Lizzy pulled back, and shot him in the chest, scoring 50 points.
The buzzer sounded. The lights came back up. The game was over.
"We win!" Lizzy crowed, joyfully, "I kicked your ass, Fitzie boy!"
'Fitzie boy,' as it was, was slumped against the wall with lipstick smeared like a smile around his mouth, dazed as a cartoon character with stars above his head. He couldn't speak, couldn't think; he could only watch as Lizzy held both arms above her head, threw her head back, and laughed, reveling in the brief adrenaline of victory.
Then she caught Darcy watching her. And smiled.
...he loved laser tag.